


the stars are nothing without you

by markgeolli



Series: carry me home [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:47:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23420437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markgeolli/pseuds/markgeolli
Summary: In the early months of their partnership, Jaehyun quickly realized that Johnny had his back, whether they were in the field or under the stern gaze of their superiors, and no amount of denial or persuasion would get Johnny to take that back.“What are partners for, right?” Johnny would say whenever Jaehyun pressed him about it, smiling in the face of Jaehyun’s frustration.(Agent AU)
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Series: carry me home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684687
Comments: 68
Kudos: 336





	1. prelude

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to the agent au fic!!
> 
> for those who may not know it, this au was created by me and jiani (@n_ikuman on twitter/ao3), in which the nct members are secret agents. you can find jiani's fanart thread for this au [here](https://twitter.com/n_ikuman/status/1072269785495465984), and learn more about the agents by reading their profiles [here](http://www.tinyurl.com/AgentProfiles) (this is a 10k word google doc).
> 
> the title is from [sam smith's lay me down](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HaMq2nn5ac0). the rating for this fic... will probably go up to explicit in future chapters.

The thing is, it isn’t even Johnny’s first solo mission.

Jaehyun’s lost count of how many times he’s seen Johnny run through his pre-mission routine, meticulously checking every last detail before he heads to dispatch. He’d intercepted Johnny on the way to the cafeteria, looking to grab a bite after a particularly grueling session at the gym, and found Johnny with his arms full after a trip to the Qs.

“Does Taeyong have you infiltrating a bomb center?” Jaehyun asked, raising his eyebrows. “I thought that was Kun and Jungwoo’s job.”

“I’ll leave that to the professionals,” Johnny said, laughing, demuring as if he hasn’t had a hand in plenty of missions alongside the bomb squad. Still, that much kevlar could only signal another undercover solo mission, likely somewhere remote. Jaehyun bit his half-eaten apple in his mouth to free up his hands to help bring the equipment up to Johnny’s office, where Johnny already had his weapons lined up on his desk next to his tablet.

“Thanks again for the help,” Johnny says, maneuvering an unwieldy long case through the doorway. Jaehyun wonders what Chenle could’ve possibly invented this time, especially for an undercover job. “You can put those right here.”

“Hell of a mission,” Jaehyun says, nodding at the crowded desk. Johnny’s been assigned to solo missions since before they met at the North America branch, disappearing for weeks at a time, but Jaehyun can only recall a handful that have required so much firepower. “Do you have any idea how long you’ll be out for?”

Johnny looks up from cleaning the barrel of his handgun and shrugs one shoulder, smile wry. “It’s hard to say. Maybe two or three weeks?”

“Right,” Jaehyun says, and they fall silent. He remembers the apple in his hand and belatedly takes a bite. What had he and Johnny even talked about before? It’s infuriating to know Johnny so well, to know how he’ll greet Sicheng over the comms and brush up on his foreign languages on the flight out, but not be able to fathom what’s on his mind right now. They’ve prepared for so many missions together in Johnny’s office, it feels strange to be sitting with his hands empty, still dressed in his workout clothes, as Johnny refills his ammo and tests his gadgets.

Last night, Johnny touched Jaehyun with those hands, impossibly gentle. Jaehyun forces himself to look away.

He doesn’t need to be told that last night was a mistake - another strike in a series of bad decisions. Even as Johnny eased him against the closed door of his quarters and pressed their mouths together, Jaehyun clutching at Johnny’s shirt as he urged the kiss messier, more frantic, Jaehyun knew he was being unfair. He has been, ever since the first time back in New York.

Johnny’s watch pings - an incoming message - and he dismisses it with a flick of his finger. “I’m grabbing a late lunch with Mark and Donghyuck before I head out. Want to come with?”

“Sure,” Jaehyun says, heaving himself back on his feet. His muscles complain, but a workout is the best way to scrub his mind clean of his thoughts, even if only for a couple hours. They waver in the doorway for a moment, Johnny holding the door for Jaehyun and Jaehyun waiting for Johnny to step through first, before Johnny gestures a clear _After you_. “Thanks,” Jaehyun murmurs.

The awkward silence in the elevator ride to the second floor is broken as soon as the doors slide open, revealing Mark and Donghyuck waiting on the other side. If they’re surprised to see Jaehyun, they don’t show it, Donghyuck latching onto Johnny’s arm like a barnacle as Mark falls in step beside Jaehyun. “I can’t believe you’re going on another long mission,” Donghyuck whines as they head into the canteen. “We’re not going to be able to train together for ages!”

“Hey, Johnny’s my coach! Train with your own,” Mark retorts, crossing his arms across his chest. This argument is a bone that Jaehyun’s seen Mark and Donghyuck squabble over again and again, so he tunes them out.

By late afternoon, the canteen is empty save for a few stragglers - Yuta putting together a sandwich with his rifle case strapped across his back, saluting when he catches Jaehyun’s eye; Ten and Kun talking in low voices at one of the corner tables. Ten is back from a long mission himself, Jaehyun recalls, but he looks as alert as ever, throwing his head back to laugh at something Kun says. They get a reproachful look from the head chef when they get in line for food, but Johnny smiles back apologetically, smoothing things over with the same easy charm he uses with reluctant witnesses and, to Jaehyun’s chagrin, Jaehyun when he’s in a slump.

“Where are you going anyway? For how long?” Donghyuck asks bullishly, once they’re sitting down and Mark takes a break from their bickering to inhale his lunch. Donghyuck is clearly sulking, pouting and pushing his food around his plate.

“A few weeks, at least. Who knows with undercover missions, anyway,” Johnny says. He nudges Donghyuck’s knee under the table with his own, smiling. “I’ll be back before you guys even know it.”

Johnny has always dealt with the weight of Donghyuck’s admiration more gracefully than Jaehyun has, something Jaehyun has guiltily found relief in whenever they’re all together. Jaehyun still remembers the early months after their transfer to the Asia branch, scrambling to reorient himself among agents who didn’t know what had happened - what he’d done wrong and what he’d lost. Back then, he’d been constantly caught in the dread of his colleagues finding out and the guilt that he was keeping such terrible secrets, the near-fails on his psychological evaluations and sleepless nights avoiding yet another nightmare. Pairing this cocktail of anxiety with a starry-eyed Donghyuck, one of the most promising rookie agents Jaehyun has ever met, was asking for trouble.

But Jaehyun has never seen someone so good at balancing the firmness of hand and indulgence of heart with which Johnny treats the rookie agents. It’s like he always knows what joke to crack, what praise or advice to offer whenever the rookies need it, whether it’s Mark picking himself up from the mats for another round of sparring at Johnny’s teasing or Donghyuck glowing with excitement when Johnny manages to carve out some time to train with him. Jaehyun can hardly blame the kid - he remembers the awe and disbelief of learning directly from the senior agents, and Johnny is one of the best.

While Donghyuck is setting his devious mind to extracting promises from Johnny for future training sessions to “make up” for “lost time,” Mark leans closer to Jaehyun on their side of the cafeteria table. “Hey,” he says in a low voice, but his expression gives him away easily enough that Jaehyun is glad the other two are distracted. “You good?”

“I’m totally fine,” Jaehyun says, smiling reflexively. His dimples work better on wealthy donors and rattled witnesses, though, so Mark only frowns back.

“Okay, well, let me know if you need anything,” Mark says, making no effort to hide his skepticism as he turns back to his lunch, but then Donghyuck interjects, “What could Jaehyun possibly need from you?” and they’re off again.

They put away their dishes and take the elevator back upstairs together, stopping once so Mark and Donghyuck can head over to what Ten has dubbed the “baby cave” - the spare office where the rookies, from what Jaehyun can gather, hoard snacks and marathon anime during the downtime between training sessions. Jaehyun trails after Johnny back to his office to resume his seat, watching as Johnny wraps up his mission prep rituals. Johnny glances up at him, bemused but content to let Jaehyun be.

He’s always content to let Jaehyun go at his own pace, even if that means Johnny’s waiting for him. Jaehyun only wonders how long Johnny is willing to wait.

Without his post-workout snack on hand, Jaehyun feels restless, plucking a pen from Johnny’s desk to twirl just for something to do. The movement feels oddly reminiscent of a few months ago - they’d retreated to Johnny’s office after a particularly brutal debrief with Taeyong, wrung out from the emotional toll of recounting the details of the mission yet still wired from that post-mission adrenaline high. Too exhausted to drag himself downstairs to the gym, Jaehyun resorted to spinning a pen until Johnny said, quirking one corner of his lips, “Watch out, that might explode on you after a couple more turns.”

“You’re joking,” Jaehyun said, freezing in place. His mind sharpened, defaulting to the focus that settles over him in mission-critical moments, until Johnny shrugged, the smile widening into a mischievous smirk. “Chenle may or may not have dropped off a couple of exploding pens for me, but I accidentally put them with my other pens and they’ve gotten all mixed up. Oops?”

“As if you’d do something as careless as that,” Jaehyun said, but Johnny had simply raised his eyebrows, his would-be guileless expression ruined by the lingering smirk. Jaehyun silently dropped the pen back into Johnny’s cup, the atmosphere lightening enough for Jaehyun to suggest they find a snack. They’d raided the fridges and finished off the last of Yuta’s hoarded ice cream. Jaehyun still remembers Yuta chewing them out afterwards, Johnny pretending to cower behind Jaehyun’s shoulder and laughing breathlessly.

There’s none of that playful humor in Johnny’s face when he meets Jaehyun’s gaze, replaced with a cautiousness that Jaehyun knows he put there but doesn’t know how to chase away. He doesn’t comment about the pen, merely rises slowly to his feet. “I’m about ready to head out.”

“Okay,” Jaehyun says. Johnny’s gaze follows the line of his arm down to his hand as Jaehyun places the pen back in its cup. No explosions today. “I’ll walk you out.”

The plan is to head out via car, then catch a flight, which makes Jaehyun wonder where they’re sending Johnny this time. Johnny slings his bag and Chenle’s mystery case across his back as he leads the way to the elevator, and Jaehyun follows empty-handed, trying to put them in his pockets before realizing he doesn’t have any. The doors hiss apart once more, opening to the cavernous space of the garage, and Jaehyun feels Johnny glance at him, as if wondering just how far Jaehyun will accompany him. 

Jaehyun barely knows himself. It almost feels like a joke, how Johnny is leaving after such a strange night, a hollowness settling in Jaehyun’s belly so deep he felt the echoes of it when he woke up in the morning in his own bed. He can still feel the burn of Johnny’s hands on his body, how the tenderness hurt more than the bruises. How he could sense things shifting between them over the last few months until they knocked Jaehyun’s feet out from underneath him, no longer able to turn a blind eye to Johnny’s feelings, much less his own.

As awkward as it is, though, the idea of letting Johnny head out with saying goodbye felt even more off-kilter. There are so many things Jaehyun wants to say, crowding his mind and catching in his throat, and yet he can’t seem to force them into words when the familiar black car comes into sight.

 _Maybe we should end it_ , Jaehyun thinks wildly. Maybe the only way to spare Johnny from Jaehyun’s selfishness is to cut things off as much as they possibly can, despite how deeply intertwined their work and livelihoods have become. There’s no way it doesn’t hurt every time Jaehyun reaches for Johnny to seek solace in his mouth and hands, his kindness, only to push him away before Johnny can get too close. Even after everything Johnny has done for him, Jaehyun still demands more from him without reciprocating, trapping them in a gridlock that Jaehyun doesn’t have the bravery - the heart that Johnny has in spades - to break them free.

But when he finally looks up at Johnny’s face, Johnny raises his eyebrows expectantly, lips curling in a smile meant to reassure before he even knows why he’s reassuring, and Jaehyun loses his nerve. He can always tell Johnny once he’s back. Once Johnny is back, Jaehyun will talk to him about this, end things properly - Johnny deserves at least that much. “Good luck out there,” he says instead, holding a hand out.

For a moment, he thinks Johnny is going to hold him, moving in close enough that Jaehyun reflexively catches his breath. Instead, Johnny just clasps Jaehyun’s hand, warm and tight, before he turns away to load up his bags.

By the time Johnny slips into the backseat, he’s been erased down to a silhouette by the tinted windows and dim lighting of the garage. Jaehyun doesn’t stick around to watch the car go.

When the unease first creeps in, an unwelcome visitor, Jaehyun just writes it off to the usual restlessness that takes up residence in his body whenever Johnny is out on a long mission. He used to think the feeling started after they began sleeping together, some resultant attachment to the proximity of Johnny’s body, but now he knows it’s buried deeper. In the early months of their partnership, Jaehyun quickly realized that Johnny had his back, whether they were in the field or under the stern gaze of their superiors, and no amount of denial or persuasion would get Johnny to take that back.

“What are partners for, right?” Johnny would say whenever Jaehyun pressed him about it, smiling in the face of Jaehyun’s frustration. Back then, Jaehyun resented him for it, how Johnny was able to be such an amazing partner when Jaehyun had failed, his shortcomings creating the circumstances that had saddled Johnny with Jaehyun in the first place.

Now, Jaehyun knows better than to take the sense of security that Johnny brings for granted. The insomnia is back in full force by the end of Johnny’s first week in the field, etching constant dark circles under Jaehyun’s eyes. Still, he’s bitterly grateful it’s the sleepless nights instead of the nightmares that leave him with a bone-deep exhaustion that no amount of caffeine can chase away. He’s nursing his fourth mug of coffee over some protocol documentation when Mark’s message pops up. `wanna spar later? like at 11?`

`you sure you can fit me into your schedule?` Jaehyun sends back. He can’t resist teasing after Mark bailed on their sparring match yesterday morning, pulled into a last-minute meeting with Taeyong as part of his coordinator-to-be duties. This kind of thing has been happening more frequently lately as Taeyong pushes for Mark to take on more responsibilities.

Mark’s reply is instantaneous and satisfying. `no fair!! u know i didnt mean to ditch u on purpose bro`

`yeah dw. 11’s good`

Suppressing yet another yawn, Jaehyun buries himself back in his paperwork until 11 o’clock rolls around. Mark’s already at the training room when Jaehyun gets there, going through some light stretches, and Jaehyun wraps his hands before falling into place beside him. Mark raises his eyebrows when he sees Jaehyun’s face, but mercifully doesn’t comment.

Jaehyun pauses for a moment at the edge of the mats, waiting for the strange restlessness to quiet and make way for the upcoming match. It doesn’t - the persistent buzz of energy lingers, a mix of over-caffeination and anxiety that keeps Jaehyun’s chest tight. He forces the air out of his lungs in a sharp gust. “Let’s do this,” Jaehyun says, meeting Mark’s gaze across the mats, and Mark nods once.

After all these years, sparring with Mark is so familiar it hovers on the brink of falling into a rhythm, but Jaehyun knows better than to assume he’ll come out on top. Even with his increased coordinator workload, Mark trains harder than anyone else, constantly improving and developing his fighting style. Mark shifts his weight on the balls of his feet, watching Jaehyun back just as carefully as they slowly circle each other.

Jaehyun lunges forward for the first blow. Mark blocks Jaehyun’s kick and fist in quick succession, catching Jaehyun with a quick jab to the chest. He’s even faster than the last time they sparred, only mere weeks ago, and Jaehyun throws a right hook only for Mark to dart back in time to avoid it.

With Mark, the fight is all about timing. Either Mark will steal past Jaehyun’s guard to take him down with a few well-placed hits, or Jaehyun will outlast him in terms of endurance, biding his time until Mark’s stamina runs low. Some of their previous matches have stretched past an hour, Jaehyun waiting Mark out until he ultimately couldn’t throw Jaehyun off one final time. Jaehyun remembers how clear his mind felt during those matches, constantly predicting what Mark might try next. He’s spent so much time perfecting his own technique, training himself to tamp down the competitive urge that instinctively rises up when his opponent lands a good hit, that the mats have become a safe place. A place where Jaehyun knows who he is and what he can do.

But today is different. His reflexes feel duller, slower. Mark lands another punch on Jaehyun’s side and Jaehyun grits his teeth against the sharp flare of pain, his back heel slipping along the mat as he pivots to return the hit. If it hurts when Jaehyun’s knuckles connect with Mark’s chest, skating along the edge of his collarbone, Mark barely falters.

They trade another flurry of blows, and then it happens - Mark presses in for a right hook and kick combination so reminiscent of Johnny’s fighting style that Jaehyun freezes, just long enough for Mark to catch him squarely in the middle of the chest so hard it knocks the air out of him, sending him staggering back across the mats. “Holy shit,” Mark says as Jaehyun goes down, and his concerned face quickly appears in Jaehyun’s swirling field of vision. “Jaehyun? Dude, what just happened?”

Jaehyun groans, the pain radiating from the center of his chest easily overshadowed by the mortification of losing. He hasn’t sparred so poorly since he was back at the academy, and the look of wide-eyed worry on Mark’s face is more than enough to bring down the shame and humiliation like a physical weight. “I just need a second,” he says, blinking against the bright spots blooming at the corners of his vision, and it’s a testament to how good of a friend Mark is that he doesn’t immediately call Jaehyun out for lying. “Then we can go again.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Mark says firmly, even as he reaches out to clasp Jaehyun’s hand and pull him upright to sitting. The sudden movement makes agony scream through Jaehyun’s torso, and Mark gives him a look like he knows exactly how Jaehyun feels right now. Given how often he spars with Johnny, he probably does. “Honestly, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“It’s fine,” Jaehyun says testily. He’s pushed his way through plenty of sparring matches and missions on this level of sleeplessness. It’s hardly commendable, but Jaehyun knows he can do this. He has no choice but to push through the haze of fatigue, day after day.

Mark straightens to his full height and meets Jaehyun’s gaze, and in that moment, Jaehyun sees the mission coordinator that Mark is working to become. The coordinator that Johnny saw in Mark when he asked the rookie agent to accompany him to Seoul, to join the Asia Branch with them. “No,” Mark says with a touch of authority, quiet but nevertheless self-assured. “We’re done for today. Let’s go get lunch.”

Jaehyun’s head is still spinning, and the pain that has dulled into a deep ache twists its way through his chest whenever he moves too quickly. More than anything, though, it’s the persistent realization that Jaehyun had lost focus thinking of _Johnny_ that makes Jaehyun want to crawl into a dark corner and lick his wounds. None of that is Mark’s fault, though, so Jaehyun sighs and concedes. “Okay.”

“It’s fine, man, you just need a good night’s sleep,” Mark says good-naturedly, clapping a hand to Jaehyun’s shoulder before walking away, unwrapping his hands as he goes. Jaehyun waits until Mark is through the double doors before dropping back down onto the mats with a groan, the aches of his newly forming bruises forcing itself to the front of his consciousness now that the adrenaline high of the fight is fading away.

He’d been avoiding associating his restlessness with Johnny’s prolonged absence, but after a fumbled match like that, it’s hard to ignore the obvious connection. Jaehyun stares up at the ceiling pipes of the training facility, trying to imagine how Johnny would react if Jaehyun told him the mere thought of him was enough to distract Jaehyun in the middle of a match.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! i'm still slowly writing this fic, but we thought it was due time that this fic saw the light of day...
> 
> feel free to come shout at me about it in the comments, at my fic twitter [@johndobot](https://twitter.com/johndobot), or at my cc [@markgeolli](https://curiouscat.me/markgeolli)! we'd love to hear what you think!


	2. debrief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we now have the character profiles in a sacksy carrd that jiani put together! there's also an faq, inspiration, links to playlists (including [one for this fic](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5OzoL0oUTmWZwUdnw5wrEh?si=NZhOHhdjTJiRcqh9NRVacQ)!), and more. browse at your leisure here: [agentau.carrd.co](http://agentau.carrd.co/)
> 
> i hope you enjoy this chapter!

The days drag on, bleeding into weeks, and updates from the field are few and far between. Jaehyun knows better than to expect any sort of constant correspondence from an undercover agent, of course, but he still can’t help but ask Sicheng whenever he happens to be on the IT floor.

“There’s been no word since you last asked,” Sicheng says dryly when Jaehyun pops his head into his office. He doesn’t even look up from his monitors, where a long line of code is scrawling itself across the center screen as it computes an encryption. Jaehyun hears Taeil stifle a laugh in the adjacent room, the man himself barely visible within his cocoon of paperwork and computer parts and half-empty mugs of tea.

“I didn’t even say anything yet,” Jaehyun protests, feeling exposed. At least Yuta isn’t here to witness Jaehyun embarrassing himself. Small mercies. “What if I was going to ask you to go on a coffee run with me?”

“Then I’d tell you to bring me some on your way back upstairs,” Sicheng says. He glances over his shoulder to smirk at Jaehyun, and Jaehyun resists the urge to roll his eyes, but only just. Given how Jaehyun has taken to making up excuses to wander around the IT wing on the way up to the supervisory special agents’ offices on the top floor, Sicheng has been graciously dealing with his incessant questions. When there are no updates from undercover agents, there are no updates, and no amount of pestering on Jaehyun’s part will change that.

It’s not like Jaehyun is sitting around, waiting for word from Johnny - though sometimes, it almost feels that way. He works out, supports missions where needed, spars with Mark and occasionally gets his ass soundly kicked by Ten. He starts going for long runs in the sprawling woods around HQ, letting the cold snap in the early morning air wake him up. The forest slowly bursts into color as late summer seeps into the beginnings of fall, making Jaehyun feel small and all of his worries insignificant. More than once, he runs into Kun, the other agent offering him a friendly smile as they jog past each other. Jaehyun hadn’t even realized Kun was back from his latest mission - the bomb squad leader is away for such long stretches of time that Jaehyun defaults to assuming Kun isn’t around. Jaehyun envisions telling his past self he’d one day empathize with Ten, of all people, and laughs loudly enough to startle a bird from a nearby tree.

Eventually, Taeyong calls Jaehyun into his office to assign him his next solo mission. “Should be quick,” Taeyong says briskly, Jaehyun’s briefing already laid out on a tablet on his desk. The circles under his eyes are dark enough to rival the ones Jaehyun sees in the mirror, but Taeyong is as composed and decisive as ever. “Get the intel and make sure to cover your tracks.”

“Got it,” Jaehyun says, ignoring the way his chest tightens, throat closing up as his heartbeat roars in his ears. Even the mere mention of intelligence collection instantly transports him to his most persistent nightmares, and for a moment, Jaehyun is struck by his own anger, how his memories can render meaningless all of the successful missions he and Johnny have knocked out over the last two years. Intelligence is his - their - specialty, and this is nowhere near Jaehyun’s first solo mission, either.

“Good,” Taeyong says. “You’ll have Taeil on the line, and Lucas is already expecting you downstairs. Dispatch is tomorrow morning, 6 AM on the dot. You should be back within 48 hours.”

Jaehyun nods, closing his fingers tightly around the tablet to steady the tremor in his hands. When Taeyong doesn’t say anything else, turning back to his computer with a clear air of dismissal, Jaehyun heads directly downstairs to the Qs. As soon as the double doors hiss open, Lucas looks up from his work station, greeting Jaehyun with a bright smile. “Hey, Jaehyun! I’ve got you set up right here.”

“Hey,” Jaehyun says, smiling back as he makes his way to Lucas’s corner. The Quartermasters’ floor is always a sight to behold, a feat of organized chaos of protective armor and data collection gadgets and half-assembled weapons in the midst of upgrades for the next mission. Chenle beams at him but doesn’t wave, both arms deep in the midst of what looks like a cross between a catapult and a car engine. Jaehyun isn’t even going to ask.

“Here’s your earpiece for comms, and I made a couple tweaks to your handgun since the last time,” Lucas says, showing Jaehyun the contents of the sleek case in his hands. “Hendery and I made a few adjustments based on what you said about the recoil, so let me know if this works better for you.”

“Thanks, man,” Jaehyun says. Lucas’s work is always clean, a testament to the high caliber of their Qs. Knowing every piece of equipment, big or small, is so carefully maintained brings Jaehyun a peace of mind that he knows the other agents share.

“Of course,” Lucas says easily. “One more thing - we’re testing a new tracker for field transmissions. Same size, same functionality, except I’ve added a few upgrades to streamline automatic uploads. Long story short, it’ll send data back more frequently, no matter how strong or weak the satellite connection. This will give us more information about your whereabouts even after you go out of range of our standard tracking capabilities.”

Jaehyun takes the tiny disk that Lucas offers him; it’s barely the size of his thumbnail, the perfect size to be tucked in the folds of his clothes or affixed to his weapon. “That’s amazing,” he says. Jaehyun still remembers how vehemently Taeyong insisted they recruit Lucas before he had even graduated from the academy, even going to the trouble of transferring Lucas from the Hong Kong office so he could work out of HQ. Back then, nanotechnology was still a long shot, a risky investment most were unwilling to take, but Taeyong’s gamble has more than paid off with Lucas.

Lucas smiles and offers Jaehyun his case. “You get two trackers,” he says. “The second one is already installed into your gun. If you can bring both back, that’d be great, since there’s a lot we can learn from analyzing the transmitter after actual missions.”

“Hey, I’m not Jaemin,” Jaehyun says. The rookie sniper is notorious for destroying or otherwise losing equipment in the field, though his partner Jeno is somehow able to bring everything back in one piece returning from the same missions. 

“Or Renjun,” Lucas says long-sufferingly. “He went on a bit of a rampage on his last mission. Not much to recover after that. I liked that gun, too.”

Jaehyun laughs, tucking the equipment case under his arm, and waves to Chenle on his way out the door. He’s only two steps away from the lab doors when he hears a muffled explosion, immediately followed by Chenle’s shrieks ringing out over the low timber of Lucas’s laughter. As Yuta likes to say, never a dull moment with the Qs.

The levity from his visit to the basement labs quickly dissipates by the time he’s back in his quarters. Jaehyun sits down heavily on the edge of his bed without even shedding his boots, tipping back until his own body weight takes him flat to the mattress. Intelligence collection, of all things. It’s a straightforward mission - go to the meetup point, meet the informant, shake off any persistent tails on the way back. But it’s the simplicity that gets him every time, how that mission, too, had begun so innocuously. How Jaehyun had never even seen it coming. It’s literally his job to have seen it coming, his _responsibility_ , and he’d royally fucked up.

This is the point in his downward spiral when Jaehyun gets desperate enough to reach out to Johnny - for the crash of his body to distract Jaehyun from his most unforgiving thoughts, for that intrinsic kindness that makes him Johnny to soothe away his anxiety. More than once, the impulse has grown persistent enough for Jaehyun to go downstairs for a midnight gym session, just to make sure he crashes as soon as his head hits the pillow.

With dispatch only hours away, that’s not an option. And even if he could let himself, there’s no telling when Johnny will be back from undercover. He drags himself up to get ready for bed, shedding his clothes and brushing his teeth on autopilot in the little bathroom adjacent to his room. It isn’t until he’s already under the covers does he consider playing a record on his turntable - he’d brought it to HQ from his already barren apartment, since he was spending more nights in his assigned quarters anyway - but he can’t bring himself to get back up, weighed down by a sudden wave of fatigue. The continuous nights of poor sleep catch up to him all at once - he tosses and turns and slides into a dreamless sleep.

In the end, the mission is easy, almost too easy. He meets the informant at the agreed upon meeting spot, a mousy waif of a girl sidling up only minutes after Jaehyun arrives. When he offers the code phrase, she slips him the encrypted micro-USB drive; it’s smaller than Jaehyun’s pinky fingernail, and he once again marvels at Lucas’s handiwork. There’s a slot in his watch already waiting for the micro-USB to find its place.

“You have 12 hours before that USB is useless,” she says, her voice hoarse and surprisingly low. She’s so skinny that her eyes peer out of her narrow face like an owl’s, unwavering until she blinks. “I suggest you make haste.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Jaehyun says, giving her the envelope with her share of the trade. She slips it into a hidden pocket with a cursory glance at its contents, before her gaze fixes back on Jaehyun’s face. He tries to emanate a reassuring, trustworthy aura.

The girl looks unconvinced, glancing at the end of the alleyway at the flicker of a passerby. “Until next time,” she says, and seeps back into the shadows before Jaehyun can respond. Much like the rest of Doyoung’s network of informants, a complex spider’s web that reaches through every neighborhood of Seoul and Busan and cities beyond, her footsteps are buried deep within the underbelly of the city. They go where the agents, too high profile and easily noticed, cannot.

Jaehyun clicks the micro-USB drive into place, the watch vibrating against his skin as the data transfer begins immediately. “Nice work,” Taeil says mildly into his earpiece. “You’re a twenty minute walk from pick-up. Fifteen if you’re brisk.”

“Be there in fifteen,” Jaehyun says, letting his long stride take him directly into the Seomyeon rush hour crowds. With his fitted suit, hair combed back, and the Rolex gleaming from his wrist, no one spares him a second glance. At least not until he turns off the busy main street, catching sight of someone falling in step a few meters behind him. He glances back long enough for the tiny camera buried in his lapel to capture the man’s face, partially shrouded by the high collar of his coat. “Taeil, to my left.”

“I see him,” Taeil says. Jaehyun can hear his fingers flying across the keyboard, his watch flickering as the information comes in at the same rapid pace. “Shit, not these guys again. This is the fourth time in the last six months. I swear they have someone specifically following our cars around.”

“What should I do with him?” Jaehyun murmurs. The nape of his neck prickles with awareness as the man grows bolder, letting the gap between them shrink gradually. They’re the only two people in this boulevard of high-end boutique shops, already closed for the day. Jaehyun smoothly turns off into a narrow side street, moving in the opposite direction of pickup now, and his tail follows without missing a beat.

“Well,” Taeil says, his voice deliberately light, “it wouldn’t be very fun for us if he scampered back to his boss with news to share, right?” 

“Right,” Jaehyun says, reaching up to loosen his tie before he turns around. The distinct look of _oh, shit_ that crosses the guy’s face is so good Jaehyun doesn’t even bother denying the gratification he feels from putting it there. The expression lingers even as they start fighting and it becomes apparent that the man is hired muscle, unused to someone beyond his league. Jaehyun figures he has his frequent sparring partners to thank as he makes quick work of his opponent, disarming him before he can even pull out his switchblade and knocking him out with a decisive blow to the base of his skull.

“Clean as always,” Taeil says. He’s quiet during the fights, allowing the agents in the field to get in the zone uninterrupted. “Now please hurry back, you’re officially late for pickup.” 

“Ugh, Taeyong’s going to give me shit for that,” Jaehyun complains, gathering a few fraying threads from his sleeve - the man had clambered to find a hold, mid-grapple, and caught at the seams of Jaehyun’s suit jacket - and ripping them off in one brisk movement. Chenle will be pissed at him, too. _It’s not like titanium-reinforced suits fall from the sky!_

“You’d better hurry,” Taeil says cheerfully. “If you reach into his right pocket, you may find something useful. Parked three blocks away.”

Sure enough, Jaehyun’s fingertips meet the jangle of keys, as well as a slim cardholder. He pockets both before Taeil directs him to the motorcycle, a helmet dangling helpfully off its handlebars. It’s not the nicest of bikes, but it’s more than enough for the few blocks between Jaehyun and his destination. With the wind whipping by as he weaves through traffic, the adrenaline of a fight victorious still buzzing in his veins, Jaehyun lets himself relax enough to indulge in some speed, especially when his watch chimes with the confirmation that the data transfer is complete.

He hasn’t felt so alive, so in his element, for a long time. He almost wishes he had someone to share the moment with, a thought so foreign it takes Jaehyun aback for a moment, barely pulling up short at a red light in time. After all, that person is usually already by his side when Jaehyun comes out triumphant and ready to take on the world.

Jaehyun’s only ten minutes late for pickup, nodding to the driver before he hops into the van. As they merge into traffic for the drive back, Taeil signs off with a cheerful “See you back at HQ!” Leaning back in his seat, Jaehyun watches as the streets recede as they approach the bridge spanning across the river to Gimhae, a silvery trail of vehicle headlights. The hum of a mission accomplished and a fight won - one where Jaehyun can enjoy a bit of an upper hand instead of getting pummeled by Ten - settles in his veins, lending to a good mood that lasts all the way to Seoul, pulling into the garages underneath headquarters. He’s back early, even before Taeyong’s estimate, and figures he can get away with a hot shower before debrief.

Just past dawn, HQ is quiet and still. Yuta and Jisung aren’t even up yet for their early morning practice, the halls calm without the rhythmic thunks of bullets burying themselves into their targets. His shower must be the first of the entire wing of agents’ quarters - it takes a while to heat up, but once it does, the water is almost unbearably hot, just how Jaehyun likes it. The scalding heat gets his blood pumping even as he rinses away the grime of the fight and the transit. He emerges in a plume of steam, toweling his hair dry before changing into sweats and heading for the elevators. It’s the best version of his post-mission routine, when the beacon of good news to share makes the trek light and leisurely.

The Head of the Asia Branch sits at the end of the hallway on the top floor, flanked by Johnny and Yuta’s offices as the most senior agents directly below Taeyong’s rank. Jaehyun spends enough time in Johnny’s office that the route itself is familiar, one that Jaehyun could navigate blind or half-asleep, and yet those final steps into Taeyong’s domain somehow feel immeasurably vast sometimes, as if the sheer weight of the responsibility Taeyong bears sets him apart in a world of his own. Jaehyun has always admired the way Johnny seems to cross the distance between Taeyong and the rest of the agent force so easily, as if the distance is only the mere strides that separate their two office doors. Maybe for Johnny, it is. But when Jaehyun had been offered the opportunity to become a supervisory special agent and lead team missions himself, he’d turned it down without a second thought. There was no way he’ll ever accept the responsibility, the weight of another person’s wellbeing - another person’s life - in his hands again.

The door to Taeyong’s office smoothly slides open as Jaehyun steps up to the facial recognition scanner, a clear sign that Taeyong is expecting him for debrief, but the man himself is unusually absent from his desk, all screens powered off. Jaehyun hesitates in the foyer, wondering if he should drop by again later, when a flicker of movement catches his eye.

The early morning sunshine streams through the wide-paneled glass windows of the conference room, framing Taeyong’s silhouette in a wavering golden halo. He typically only hosts the agency higher ups for their annual visits in this room, doing away with the formalities for day-to-day meetings, so Jaehyun is surprised to see Taeyong seated at the massive meeting table, arms folded across his chest. Even stranger, he’s with Doyoung, the other agent pacing the length of the room. As Jaehyun watches, Doyoung gestures with a sweeping hand, frustration evident in every line of his body, and Taeyong shakes his head once tersely, words swallowed up by the soundproofed walls.

Just as Jaehyun is about to double back for the elevators, Taeyong glances up and beckons him inside. As soon as Jaehyun steps into the conference room, Doyoung draws back to stand by the window behind Taeyong’s seat, directing his glare out to the still-slumbering city. Even though it’s been months since Taeyong brought Doyoung back to HQ, it’s still odd to not see them constantly at each other’s throats.

“Is now still a good time?” Jaehyun asks delicately. He’s seen Taeyong in some high-tension situations in their years of working together, but can’t quite reconcile this extreme stillness with Doyoung’s restless energy, how Doyoung keeps stealing glances at Jaehyun when he thinks Jaehyun isn’t looking. Come to think of it, Jaehyun’s given a couple of post-mission briefings with Taeil in the room, and of course with Johnny, but he’s never seen Doyoung stick around for what Jaehyun has always known to be a tedious, albeit necessary part of Taeyong’s duties. If anything, the number of meetings Taeyong has had to drag Doyoung along for has been a point of contention they’ve argued over for months, an inevitable consequence of Taeyong being assigned as Doyoung’s handler.

Taeyong shakes his head, but a quick glance at the unlabeled folder under his intertwined fingers betrays him. Jaehyun’s surprised to have even noticed it; they’ve all been through the same body language training, learned to look for the same unconscious tells. “It’s fine,” Taeyong says. Behind him, Doyoung has his phone out, fingers flying across the screen. “How did your mission go?”

As Jaehyun hoped, the briefing itself takes only minutes. He’s always glad to bring back good news, made all the better given that he didn’t come back injured or, like on one terrible, memorable occasion, stinking of sewage. Johnny’s shoulders had been too broad to fit in the drainage system of that particular building, and Mark was on a different level of the building entirely, so the onus had fallen to Jaehyun to army crawl through the sewage pipe to retrieve an important parcel. He’d cursed Johnny’s build and Taeyong, who’d assigned them to the shitty mission in the first place, the whole time.

It’s not a particularly complex mission, a single piece acquired in a larger web of intelligence and strategizing, but Taeyong is distracted during the debrief. “That’s it from me,” Jaehyun says, keeping it short with Taeyong’s mind clearly hundreds of kilometers away. He’s already taken his earpiece off, put away to be returned to the Qs as soon as he’s done here, but he can imagine Taeil’s soft chortle of laughter at Jaehyun purposely excluding any mention of his brief motorcycle joyride. Sometimes, especially after longer missions, he gets so used to having someone right in his ear, seeing the world through his eyes, that he almost expects to hear the cadence of Taeil or Sicheng’s voice directing him through the next task, even after he’s back.

Taeyong nods and makes a note on his tablet, Jaehyun’s watch flashing green before returning to its default display. “You’re good to go. Solid work as always, Jaehyun.”

“Thanks,” Jaehyun murmurs, picking up his equipment case and letting himself out of the conference room. He feels the weight of Doyoung’s gaze all the way to the door, willing himself to not turn around until he’s back inside the elevators, descending to the lab level. He’s joined for a few floors by Donghyuck and Renjun, who are apparently conspiring to get Ten to spar with them on his day off. Truly the folly of youth is voluntarily asking Ten to spar, Jaehyun thinks to himself as the rookies spill out of the lift, already squabbling and wrestling their way toward the training rooms.

Lucas and Chenle are in the lab as always, calling out greetings as Jaehyun steps through the doors, but Jaehyun stares as Sicheng of all people rises from his seat next to Lucas’s station. “Dong Sicheng, away from his computers? Wonders never cease.”

Sicheng doesn’t rise to the bait, his angular face serious. “I came here to look for you,” he says, and something in his voice makes Jaehyun look up from setting his equipment down on the metal table where the Qs accept returns. Jaehyun’s case slides into place next to Ten and Yangyang’s - bomb squad must be back in town.

“Is everything okay?” Jaehyun asks warily. It’s as if everything has been turned inside out while Jaehyun was away. He thought he’d left that lingering sense of unease behind in Busan, releasing it to the wind whipping by as he sped through the streets of Seomyeon, but here it is again, creeping into the deepening furrow between Taeyong’s brows, the frown on Sicheng’s blank face. Everything seems so misplaced, Jaehyun almost expects to see Johnny walk into the room next, back from his mission ahead of schedule, hands already outstretched.

Instead, Sicheng steps forward, catching Jaehyun’s forearm to guide him into one of the testing rooms where Chenle unleashes his most (potentially) destructive experiments. The door swings shut behind them as Sicheng switches on the light, gesturing for Jaehyun to take a seat on the desk. He doesn’t waste any time, fixing his serious gaze on Jaehyun’s face, and Jaehyun finds himself unconsciously holding his breath. Sicheng is never one for dramatics; no one who’s ever worked in the cyberdefense department of the Chinese government would be, much less the mind behind WANLI.

“It’s Johnny,” Sicheng says quietly, and Jaehyun knows that tone, stomach dropping. He knows what it sounds like when people tread lightly, reluctantly, around bad news. The edges of Jaehyun’s vision begin to white out, narrowing down to Sicheng’s face, the concern lurking behind his gaze that Jaehyun knows to look for, that Sicheng allows only a handful of people to see.

“What’s wrong with him?” Jaehyun croaks. He doesn’t even recognize the sound of his own voice, drowned out by his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

“He’s been in deep cover for ten weeks now,” Sicheng says, careful to articulate every word. “The original planned duration for his mission was eight weeks, but during the first routine check-in at week four, he briefly let us know that he’d run into a few, ah, obstacles, and expected to take a couple weeks longer. His position was so sensitive that we weren’t able to get any further details.”

“‘Was’?” Jaehyun echos. “So we don’t know where he is anymore?”

Sicheng shrugs, shaking his head. Jaehyun has never seen his friend look so helpless, even when faced with the most impossible encryptions, the most high-stakes missions. “He was supposed to check in again at week eight. Radio silence. We’ve been sending him pings every day since then, and this week, every four hours. He missed yesterday’s check in while you were in Busan. I can’t get a hold of him anymore, Jaehyun.”

“What do you mean, can’t get a hold of him?” Jaehyun says, voice rising with a note of hysteria he can hear but is powerless to stop. Possibilities clamber in his mind, each more anxiety-ridden than the last - Johnny lost, Johnny hurt, Johnny, gone, already gone, gone forever - “We have to go look for him!”

“There is no ‘we,’” Sicheng says, catching onto Jaehyun’s wrist again, this time to tighten his grip and keep Jaehyun still. His eyes are wide, though his hold doesn’t waver. “We have to follow protocol. It’s up to Taeyong to determine next steps. I’m just telling you because I know you’d want to know, but all we can do is wait.”

“I don’t care about the protocol!” Jaehyun bursts out. He yanks his arm free, side-stepping Sicheng when he intercepts Jaehyun from reaching the door. They move as mirror images, as if Sicheng is anticipating Jaehyun’s every movement, guarding him, and it makes Jaehyun even more upset. He’s not the threat here - the threat is outside of these building walls, dogging Johnny’s footsteps. “Sicheng, I can’t just sit on my ass in HQ when Johnny could be in danger!”

“That’s what’s expected of you,” Sicheng says. “Short of asking Taeyong to send you into the field after him, there’s nothing we can do.”

Jaehyun stares at him in disbelief. “Then I’m going straight to Taeyong to demand just that! There’s no way I’m staying here even if other agents get dispatched to bring him back. I have to go, Sicheng. Johnny’s in trouble.”

“Taeyong will send whoever needs to go,” Sicheng says firmly. “That’s how it works, Jaehyun.”

“I don’t give a fuck how things work,” Jaehyun shouts back. He thinks about the unlabeled folder under Taeyong’s fingertips, half-obscured by his tablet. He thinks about the way Doyoung looked at him in the conference room, how the air had felt tight in the spaces around them, unsaid words hanging over them like a physical weight. He can’t believe he was so ignorant. “You broke protocol to tell me this, right? Because you feel it, too. Something’s wrong. Something big. Who knows how long it’ll take Taeyong to decide who’s to go and when. Johnny could need help _now_.”

Jaehyun watches the internal conflict flash across Sicheng’s face for mere seconds before Sicheng is stepping aside. For a moment, the gratitude threatens to overwhelm him - he could’ve been kept in the dark, left wondering what had Taeyong and Doyoung on edge and moving on with the rest of his day. Of course it was Johnny’s mission - there’s no doubt in Jaehyun’s mind as he bolts out of the testing chamber and sprints for the elevator, running like he’s never run before.

“Whoa, everything good, man?” Lucas calls, clearly concerned, but Jaehyun doesn’t bother answering, flinging himself into the elevator before the doors are even fully open and slamming the button for the top floor.

The rest of HQ is awakening, blissfully oblivious as they prepare for another day. Jaehyun waits impatiently as his ascent is delayed by the breakfast crowd, coming from their personal quarters and training rooms to head to the cafeteria. Yuta gives him a wary look, but is distracted from asking Jaehyun why the hell he’s vibrating out of his skin when Jaemin asks him a question about sniping practice, Jeno dozing off with his head propped against Jaemin’s shoulder. Eventually, Jaehyun just gets off at the IT floor and takes the stairs up to the top floor, two at a time, his lungs aching at the sudden exertion.

This time, he can barely wait for the facial recognition software to scan him into Taeyong’s office, a cool, robotic tone announcing his arrival. Taeyong looks up sharply from his desk as Jaehyun bursts into the room. Doyoung is nowhere to be seen. “Jaehyun? What is it?”

“I heard,” Jaehyun says, gasping for air. He feels light-headed, but not just from his mad sprint. Every new worst case scenario sends his mind spinning anew, winding him up further and further. “I heard about Johnny. He’s in trouble.”

Taeyong sits up in his seat, face suddenly severe. “What’s going on here? Johnny is in the field for an undercover mission. We do not assign undercover missions lightly, Jaehyun. I thought you would know better than to interfere beyond your level of security clearance.”

In any other conversation, in any other moment in time, those words would’ve enough. A slap on the hand from an authority figure to put Jaehyun back in his place immediately, to rein in the stubborn will that fuels his competitive nature. “I’ll interfere if I think Johnny needs help that he’s not getting,” Jaehyun says, because this isn’t any other conversation.

“You aren’t even supposed to know any details about this mission,” Taeyong says. “Who told you? This mission is highly classified.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t care how classified it is,” Jaehyun bites out, even as Taeyong’s expression frosts over. He’s never once dared to speak to Taeyong without the respect that their leader has earned tenfold, both as an agent and as a mission coordinator. Coupled with his friendship with Johnny, Taeyong is someone that Jaehyun has always admired and liked. But nothing seems to matter right now. Nothing matters except for ensuring that Johnny gets back safely. “What are we doing to help Johnny? It’s been months!”

“The mission will take as long as it needs to take,” Taeyong says coolly. “Missions are classified for a reason. Again, I’m sure you’re aware that he’s in deep cover, and that we wouldn’t send an agent out in deep cover unless the mission warranted it. He knows the risks.”

“That’s fine. He’s already out there,” Jaehyun says, curling his hands into fists at his sides to control the shaking. “What I want to know is how we’re going to bring him back.”

“And what I’m saying is that it has nothing to do with you,” Taeyong says. He looks so poised, so untouchable in his crisp button-down and perfectly ironed tie, that Jaehyun almost hates him for it. “In our world, there are security clearances and mission protocols set up for a reason. When I send an agent into the field, no matter who that agent is, I have certain rules to follow. Rules that keep us alive.”

“What are you going to do when these rules cause us to lose that agent’s life?” Jaehyun asks, enunciating every syllable. “It’s just as you said, Taeyong. I don’t know the risks. But you do. Even if you take responsibility for the failed mission, nothing can bring the dead back to life.”

“It won’t do you any good to threaten me,” Taeyong says.

“No,” Jaehyun says. His breath shudders in and out of his lungs. He simultaneously wants to throw himself across Taeyong’s desk and physically shake the reason into him, and to allow his legs to falter beneath him and send him crumpling to the floor. He doesn’t even know if he could cry even if he let himself. He can’t fathom what it would feel like to cry in this moment. All he can think of is the walls closing in, the light at the end of the tunnel narrowing to a sliver until it’s sealed off completely. 

Taeyong sighs, his chair creaking as he leans forward in his seat. When Jaehyun looks up, Taeyong’s hands are at his throat, loosening the knot of his tie. He hadn’t noticed in his initial haste, but the manila folder is once again on the center of Taeyong’s desk, open this time to what Jaehyun quickly recognizes as a record of communications from the IT department. The embossed logo of the Asia Branch in the letterhead catches the morning light, gleaming at Jaehyun from where he stands in the center of Taeyong’s office.

“Jaehyun,” Taeyong says quietly. “For what it’s worth, I _am_ sorry. You know the protocol as well as I do. If he doesn’t respond within another two weeks, I’ll send a search party for him.”

Two more weeks mean twelve total weeks in the field. Three whole months, two since Sicheng last made contact with Johnny according to schedule, and counting. Jaehyun feels the panic, the bone-deep fear flare back up immediately. “Maybe you need to remind me what the protocol is, Taeyong, because two months is a hell of a long time to go without hearing from an agent who was planned for a two-month long mission! No matter how deep undercover he is, or - or what mission he was sent to do - ”

“Some agents dedicate years of their lives to undercover missions,” Taeyong says, the steel back in his voice. “And missions change. All the time. Johnny is not immune to that just because you want him to come back so badly.”

Jaehyun sucks in a breath so hard his lungs protest the sudden intake of air. It takes so long for him to come up with a response that Taeyong turns back to his computer screens, a clear dismissal, but Jaehyun can’t seem to force his legs to move. His ears are ringing, the tremors too strong to hold at bay.

“Maybe I am biased,” Jaehyun says, voice catching, and he swallows hard against the tightness of his chest. Each word is a physical weight that he has to haul from deep within himself, fighting the entire way up and out. “I can’t… There’s no point in denying that.”

Taeyong swivels slowly back around in his seat, examining Jaehyun’s face carefully. Even for the most consummate professional of their agency, the disbelief is still there in Taeyong’s gaze, the exact probing look that lurks in the shadows of Jaehyun’s quarters as he lays awake in his bed every single night. _Don’t look at me like that_ , Jaehyun wants to shout back, feeling flayed open, raw to the touch. If Taeyong says anything right now, Jaehyun thinks he might fly to pieces, so he has to keep talking first and beat him to the punch.

“But we both know Johnny well enough to know that he’s not one to miss his check-ins. In our missions together for the last three years, we’ve made it on time for every single one,” Jaehyun says. Maybe the restlessness he’s been feeling for all these weeks, ever since Johnny left, was a beacon screaming him to look out for this moment. It’s all gut instinct, nothing he can hold up to Taeyong’s scrutiny, but Jaehyun can’t force himself to let this go. “No matter how bad the mission gets, Johnny always finds a way to make it happen and come back home. Something’s wrong, Taeyong. Johnny needs help.”

“Protocol aren’t created on a whim, and certainly not by me,” Taeyong says. “I follow the same rules as you do, as Johnny does. As everyone else does. Without these rules, we’d be in chaos. The exception would become the norm.”

“Trust me, I never want to have to ask for this again,” Jaehyun bites out. “What’s the use of protocol if it doesn’t work when it counts?”

“This mission isn’t over,” Taeyong says. “All we can do is wait.”

Jaehyun throws his arms in the air, taking a stride that brings him right against the edge of Taeyong’s desk. Taeyong doesn’t flinch, gazing up at him evenly. “There’s no way I’m waiting for the mission to end,” Jaehyun says, not at all calmly. “I can’t be sitting on my ass in HQ when Johnny’s in danger!”

“Jaehyun,” Taeyong interjects, rising to his feet as well, but Jaehyun screams over him, throat raw, “What if we go in two weeks and he’s _dead_?”

The question hangs in the air over their heads for a long, terrible moment. In their line of work, nothing is easy. Jaehyun has been in plenty of life or death situations - hell, walking into Chenle’s lab can be a life or death situation sometimes - but he has never felt so terrified, fear piercing down to his bones, hands shaking anew and vision blurring until Taeyong is only a hazy silhouette before him. Mortifyingly, he feels the beginnings of tears stinging at his eyes and furiously blinks them back.

Taeyong puts down the file in his hands, staring at Jaehyun like it’s the first time he’s ever laid eyes on him. It’s a look that makes awareness prickle at Jaehyun’s spine, instincts shrieking at him to look away, but Jaehyun forces himself to hold Taeyong’s gaze, to match him, trembling all over but refusing to back down.

“Give me permission to go get him,” Jaehyun says, as steadily as he can muster. Taeyong raises a single eyebrow, but doesn’t try to cut him off again. “I’ll go whether you like it or not. I honestly don’t give a shit what you’re about to say, but clean up will be easier for both of us if you just let me go now.”

“Fine,” Taeyong says briskly. Jaehyun takes a deep breath of air, feeling oxygen flood his lungs for the first time since Sicheng told him Johnny had missed his comms check-ins. He barely holds down the cough that rises in his throat, his body struggling with the sudden intake of air, and reflexively straightens for the ultimatum when Taeyong crosses his arms. “But you’re not going alone.”

“No!” Jaehyun protests immediately. He needs to move as quickly as possible, he can’t have anyone weighing him down, what if Johnny needs help _right now_ \- but Taeyong cuts him off before he can even begin to voice his protests.

“I’m not losing two agents at once,” Taeyong says. “Much less for an illicit rescue mission. I can revoke my permission whenever I like, Jaehyun. Either you go with another agent, or you don’t go at all. I have no troubles with locking you up to make sure you stay put.”

Jaehyun glares at him resentfully, swallowing down the urge to push back against Taeyong’s authority. He wants to drag the conversation out, win this argument through sheer stubbornness alone, but the thought of being shackled in the HQ prison while the clock over Johnny’s head ticks on is unbearable. There’s no doubt that Taeyong will follow through on his threat; even months after the capture, the image of Doyoung shackled by his wrists and ankles, growling at anyone who approached through the bars of his cell, is not one Jaehyun will forget in a hurry.

“This needs to stay top secret, and you need someone quick on their feet. Not nearly as emotionally volatile,” Taeyong says, raising his eyebrows when Jaehyun bristles as if daring him to deny it. With the acknowledgement of his feelings for Johnny still so raw in the air, Jaehyun stays silent, letting Taeyong think. “Doyoung isn’t approved for missions yet. Ten or Renjun, your choice. I’ll let you know when you’re leaving as soon as I decide.”

“Ten,” Jaehyun says without hesitation. “And we’re leaving now, as soon as I can find him.”

Taeyong narrows his eyes. “This may be against protocol, but it’s still a mission. The most important mission you may ever have. I’m also assigning you to Sicheng” - Jaehyun resists the urge to squirm at Taeyong’s knowing look - “and Chenle for equipment. He’ll be ready for you by the time you and Ten arrive. Don’t cut corners - Johnny wouldn’t appreciate it if you were to get killed by your own carelessness.”

“Don’t tell me what Johnny would think,” Jaehyun says viciously. “I’m going to find Ten now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone for your patience! i originally was planning to post chapter 2 once i was done with chapter 3 (or at least close to it...) but i haven't done much writing in the past few weeks. i'm not sure when i'll be able to post chapter 3, but i will definitely strive to finish this fic. no matter how long it takes!!
> 
> as always, please let me know what you think in the comments or on [twt](https://twitter.com/johndobot) / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/markgeolli)!


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